A gay story: Big Mack Pt. 05 After showering, the two friends-with-benefits lay naked in bed, but neither were ready for sleep just yet. Unlike the mechanic, they were both night owls. If Yoshi was alone, he’d be reading a book or playing videogames on his laptop, or maybe even watching some porn, squeezing out a sneaky load before slumber. But Amelia was here with him tonight, and besides, he’d had enough sex these past two nights to last him a month. His pussy felt like an empty warehouse.
“Yoshi, can we talk for a minute?” asked the goth. Part of her mind was on her suffering uni essay. It wasn’t going to write itself.
The emo turned his bedside lamp on and rolled over to face her. “Sure, babe. What’s up?”
Amelia wasn’t quite sure how to express the thought that’d been bouncing around in her mind since her shower. “You like me, right?”
The emo giggled nervously, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “No, you’re an insufferable bitch, I hate your guts, grab your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment.”
She knew he was joking, but she wasn’t sure if he was deflecting as well. “Wait, I’m serious. Do you like me?”
“Yeah, babe, of course I like you. What a strange question. Why would you be lying in my bed if I didn’t?”
The goth reached out to touch his face. “I don’t know… like… I really like you.”
“Then it’s settled,” Yoshi declared. “We both like each other. And that’s good, because you’re smarter than me, so you can help me at exam time.”
“Yeah… but… that’s not what I mean,” she whispered, struggling to find the right way to frame her feelings. “I like hanging out with you,” she said, hoping that’d be enough to get her point across.
“I like hanging out with you too,” replied the emo. “We had drinks last night with our friends, and we had dinner together tonight, just the two of us. Like, babe, I love spending time with you, I feel so comfortable around you, and I’m already looking forward to waking up next to you tomorrow. Hey, maybe we can go out for breakfast in the morning? I reckon I’ll sleep late tomorrow, but maybe we could have breakkie at lunchtime? I could seriously go for some blueberry pancakes with maple syrup.”
The goth chick would’ve loved to, if not for her essay. She knew she was gonna spend an exasperating Sunday in the library. She let the emo’s breakfast proposal die on the vine. “It doesn’t matter,” she sighed, hoping she could explain better in the morning. She rolled onto her side, facing away from Yoshi.
The emo knew there was something serious on her mind. Under the covers, he scratched her back lightly with his painted black fingernails. He watched her breaths slow and deepen until she fell asleep.
Tiredness arrived for the emo now, but his mind was still whirring.
He pulled the bedclothes up across her shoulders, making sure she was warm.
*
Amelia was first to awaken on Sunday morning. She’d set an alarm on her phone to allow maximum library time. She heard Yoshi grumble as her alarm disturbed his deep sleep. She shut it off quickly, got up, and headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
After turning on the kettle, she headed to the bathroom, squatted over the toilet bowl, and split the whisker.
Returning to the kitchen, she added milk to the twin mugs of instant coffee she’d prepared and brought them to the bedroom. Yoshi blinked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Fuck, babe. What’s the time?”
“Sorry for waking you up so early,” apologised the goth, “it’s half past eight. But I need to go, because I’ve still got this annoying fucking essay that I need to write.” She smiled an awkward, pained smile. “I made you a coffee. If you want more sleep, that’s cool with me, but I was kinda hoping we could talk for a minute before I head back to campus.”
The emo sat up in bed, accepting the offer of caffeine. “Thanks,” he whispered, taking a sip. His hair flopped in front of his bleary eyes. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked, still half-asleep.
Amelia sighed. “Well… you and me, I guess. Us.”
Yoshi sipped his coffee before resting the mug on his bedside table. He didn’t know there was a ‘you and me’. “What do you mean?”
“I said last night that I like you,” she began. “You remember?”
In the fire, sound and light pass by.
“Yeah, and I said, I like you too.” His face looked so innocent, so unknowing.
She felt frustrated, knowing the gravity of what she wanted to convey was floating away, light as air. She frowned. “You know what I’m driving at, don’t you?”
He shrugged absentmindedly, staring at a random mark on his bedroom wall. “Maybe… yeah… but I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She felt so stonewalled by his response she nearly drained the rest of her coffee, picked up her shit, and left. She took a deep breath before trying again. “Tell me you like me.”
“I said that last night,” protested the emo. “I think you’re awesome!”
“I mean, thanks, but that’s not what I mean,” she replied. “I like you… umm… I think I like you more than just as a friend.” She didn’t know why he was making this so hard. Surely he knew what she was driving at. Nobody could be this clueless.
The emo’s gaze remained fixed on the mark on the wall. “I’m not very good at this,” he admitted. “What do you want me to say?”
Amelia was at a loss. “I don’t really know either.” She prepared to leave; this was a waste of time. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I need to get going, I need to write this stupid essay…”
“Wait,” interrupted Yoshi. “I need to tell you something.” He reached for his coffee and paused for a second, letting the painful memory of a past event flood back into his mind. “I haven’t thought about this for a long while, but I want to tell you.” He took a breath, and she sat on the edge of his bed, ready to listen.
“When I was in my last year of high school,” began the emo, “three years ago, this new girl appeared in our class one day. Her name was Hasret. She was beautiful, but she was very quiet. Her parents came to Australia from Lebanon, but I don’t know why, and I guess our school was the closest to where they settled. She spoke fragments of English, but nowhere near enough to hold a conversation. She grew up in Beirut speaking Arabic, but nobody in my class knew her language, so nobody could talk to her. Nobody bullied her or teased her, everyone just left her alone, because nobody knew what to do or say. She must’ve been miserable, having been taken from her home to this strange place on the other side of the world where she didn’t fit in and where everyone ignored her. Even though it wasn’t a malicious ignorance, maybe she didn’t know that. So I went to the library one day and borrowed a book called ‘Teach Yourself Arabic’, and I found some resources online. I learned the absolute basics, and when I approached her standing alone in the quadrangle one morning and said ‘good morning, Hasret, how are you today?’ in Arabic, her face lit up with joy. I think she was thrilled that someone was trying to make a connection with her.”
The goth had never heard her FWB talk about his past in this much detail before, and she’d never heard this particular story. But she thought his gesture towards the Arabic girl was beautiful, and she wondered if she was still part of Yoshi’s life. If she was, it might explain his reluctance to participate in the conversation she wanted to have.
“Anyway,” he continued, “we lost our virginities to each other. My parents are free-thinking agnostics, but Hasret’s were super-conservative and ultra-religious, and were presumably struggling to acclimatise to life in a strange, new country. I never met them, I only know what she told me about them. In fractured English, she told me her parents wouldn’t allow her to spend time with non-Muslims, so there was no point even raising the subject of an introduction. We had to sneak around. One Sunday afternoon, she made an excuse with her parents about something or other, and we arranged to meet for a picnic in a small reserve on the outskirts of town. We lay on a blanket on a quiet, secluded patch of grass under the shade of a small tree, and we had sex. It wasn’t planned, it kind of just happened. Afterwards, I told her I loved her in Arabic, and she said the same back to me in English. She had the keys to my heart, and all she needed to do was open the door. But her family moved away two days later, and I never saw her again. Maybe her parents found out about us, or maybe they moved for some other reason, I don’t know. I never even got the chance to say goodbye. She just disappeared.” He sighed, looking out the window. “I’ve never told anyone about this before.”
Amelia remained silent, sensing he wasn’t finished.
“I’ve never tried to find her. Like, it’s not hard to find people on social media if you’re really determined, but for me, this is all in the past, and I want it to stay there. But I’ll never forget that afternoon under the tree.” He sighed. “I just hope she’s happy, wherever she is.” He paused again, looking up at Amelia through damp eyes. “So much for commitment, hey? That’s when I shut my heart down and became the high school slut.” He shook his head. “Commitment sucks.”
Amelia felt incredibly self-conscious. The question she’d put to him was innocent enough, but she had no idea he carried such pain. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
Yoshi looked up at her through his fringe. “There’s no need to be. I’m just trying to tell you that I know what you’re asking me to say, but it’s hard for me to say it.”
Amelia looked down at her hands. “I think I understand. Thanks for telling me. No pressure, dude. I think you know how I feel.”
The emo nodded, relieved that he hadn’t lost a precious friend.
Amelia hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back. She knew she loved him, but she had no idea where she stood with him. Or where he stood with the big-dicked mechanic.
She left and headed to the library. Yoshi rolled over and slept. He dreamed about Hasret, imagining she was living a happy life somewhere in Europe.
He woke up around lunchtime and headed out for a serve of delicious blueberry pancakes. He took a book and read while he waited for his food to arrive.
*
A few weeks passed, and the goth made no attempt to return to the awkward conversation. They hung out from time to time, got drunk at the Regatta Hotel, and went back to Yoshi’s place for sex.
She kept mulling her semi-boyfriend’s story over and over in her mind. Sure, she thought to herself, commitment is always risky, and heartbreak sucks. But there are no guarantees in life, and really, everything we ever do is a risk of some kind. She’d taken a risk in trying to explain she had feelings for him, but the emo gained nothing and lost nothing in holding her at bay. Was he really prepared to live his entire life alone, just because putting your heart out there for someone else to accept is too hard? She thought about what she’d asked him. She didn’t ask for his hand in marriage, she didn’t ask for commitment, and she didn’t ask him to empty his bank account into her waiting hands. All she asked him to say was that he liked her like she liked him, but he couldn’t do it. Or he wouldn’t. She couldn’t tell.
The emo hadn’t heard anything from the mechanic lately. For all Yoshi knew, he might be reconciling with his wife, and he might never hear from him again. But on a Friday morning, a message unexpectedly arrived on the app.
Mack: hey punk 🙂
Yoshi: hey big guy haven’t heard from u in a while
Mack: been busy at work — every second cunt in the city wants their car serviced ASAFP, been working six days a week
Yoshi: i assumed you and your missus must’ve got back 2gether
Mack: nah we went out for dinner one night and had sex after but we’re definitely not getting back together… anyway, i’m too tired most nights lately to do anything but jack off
Yoshi: what do you jack off to, big guy
Mack: that pussy pic you sent me a few weeks ago is still top of the pile
The emo smiled.
Yoshi: *puts finger in mouth and sucks hard*
Mack: *erection intensifies* hey, punk, are you busy this weekend?
Yoshi: why
Mack: no biggie but I felt like doing some camping and fishing, I know a great spot
Yoshi: hmmm so ive never been camping or fishing before in my life, these are not typical life experiences for someone with a japanese mum… what happens
Mack: the great Australian outdoors
Yoshi: yeah but
Mack: well, we drive to a nice spot, we pitch a tent, we catch our dinner and cook it, then we sleep under the stars… was thinking about heading up tomorrow morning, stay overnight and come back Sunday… i could go on my own but thought it’d be nice to have some company
Yoshi: thanks for the offer, big guy, but I’m not really the outdoor type
Mack: come on, I’ll show you 🙂
Yoshi: assuming i said yes what would I need to bring
Mack: not much, a pair of swimming togs if you wanted to take a dip, but it might be a bit too cold for that… a change of clothes… bring a jacket in case it gets chilly at night… I’ve got a spare sleeping bag you can use… maybe bring a bottle of cat’s piss if beer’s not good enough for you :/ i’ll bring some food and we’ll catch dinner in the river
Yoshi: and maybe ill bring a book in case I get bored 🙂
Mack: sure
Yoshi: ok then
They ironed out some details and the emo went to campus for the day. The mechanic arranged to pick him up from his building at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.
He boarded the Citycat and took a seat on the indoor deck. He wondered what he’d just committed to. He’d just agreed to drive to the middle of nowhere with a guy twice his age that he didn’t really know very well. Horror movies start out this way. If something went wrong and he cried out for help, nobody would hear him. Fuck, their camping spot might even be out of mobile range.
He typed a message saying he’d changed his mind about going, making a weak excuse about discovering he was double-booked, but he deleted it before sending it.
After his 11am lecture, he met Amelia for an early lunch. He cradled a coffee and she drank tea while they munched on sushi rolls. “Hey,” he said, “how’s things?”
“Yeah,” sighed the goth, “not bad. What about you?”
“Good. Heard from Mack this morning.”
“OK,” she replied, nodding blankly, unsure about how she felt.
“Going away this weekend,” he said.
“Huh?”
“The great Australian outdoors, apparently.”
Amelia shook her head. “Wait, dude, I’m not following.”
“I’m losing my camping virginity this weekend.”
Amelia tried not to snigger. This had to be a joke. But as she studied his pierced face, she knew he was serious.
“Gotta try new things once in a while,” he added.
“Who are you going camping with?”
“Mack.”
Amelia’s eyes widened in shock. “But you hardly even know him!”
“I know, and to be honest, I’m a little frightened, but being scared kinda turns me on. I can’t really explain. Anyway, I wanted you to know, just in case… something happens.”
“In case something happens?” she echoed. “What, like he cuts you up with an axe and buries you in scattered pieces before he spends the rest of his life behind bars?”
Yoshi didn’t reply. He genuinely couldn’t tell whether he was being sensible right now. This could be dangerous. And Amelia was right, this could potentially be life-threatening.
“Dude, this isn’t smart,” warned the goth. “This isn’t like you.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But part of me is curious… and another part is seriously horny.”
“This sounds like the opening sequence to a horror film,” she said.
“I know. I thought that already.”
She wanted to slap him, screaming ‘listen, you batshit crazy fuckwit, I really don’t want you to do this, if you want more of his dick why can’t you just get it at home’, but she knew they weren’t close enough for her to have that kind of leverage. Besides, she still wasn’t sure how he felt about her, and she worried that if she pressed her concerns, he might read it as possessiveness, distancing him at a crucial moment.
“Text me where you’re going,” she said, catastrophic headlines flashing through her mind. “I know you won’t tell your folks, so tell me. Someone needs to know where you are.” She sipped her tea. “Look, he’s probably above board, but you really don’t know for sure. Anything could happen. You don’t know him very well at all, and you’re putting a lot of trust in the hands of a man who’s clearly in the middle of a fucking midlife crisis.”
Yoshi’s hand reached across the table and touched hers. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re leaving in the morning and we’re coming back on Sunday, so I’m only away for one night. I’ll see you when I get back. We’ll get dinner.”
She felt unsettled, but she knew her concerns weren’t likely to change his mind.
*
A freshly showered Mack pulled up outside Yoshi’s building on Saturday morning at ten o’clock. He wore a grey t-shirt, a pair of black jeans and a well-worn pair of Blundstone workboots. A red cap held his long ginger hair in place. Yoshi sauntered across the road with his backpack, dressed like he was heading to an emo concert.
“Hey punk,” greeted the mechanic as the emo launched himself up into Mack’s ute.
Yoshi threw his backpack at his feet. He didn’t bring much, assuming Mack was running the show, and besides, it was just one night. He made sure to pack a bottle of lube. Just in case. “Hey,” he replied. He noticed the mechanic’s nipples poking through his t-shirt.
Mack looked his passenger up and down. “You look good.”
“You do too, big guy.” Sharp aftershave tickled the emo’s nostrils. “And you smell nice, too. So how’s your week been?” Yoshi asked as the mechanic turned the ignition, dropped the clutch, and put the vehicle into gear. “Thought you’ve been working Saturdays lately,” he probed.
“Have been lately, yeah,” came the laconic reply, “and the overtime pay is good, but enough’s enough. Some people are just gonna have to wait a bit longer to get their wheels back. I love my job, but the garage starts to feel claustrophobic after a while. Besides, a man needs some downtime. What about you?”
“Not too bad. Uni’s going OK and I had a few night shifts at the supermarket this week, so I guess I’m a little tired.”
“Supermarket?” asked Mack.
“I restock shelves at night. Helps with the budget. Inflation’s a cunt.”
The mechanic laughed, wondering why the government never expressed the problem so bluntly.
“Where are you taking me, by the way?” asked the emo, flicking his hair away from his eyes. “I need to know where the abduction will take place so I can give the media a heads-up.” He looked over his shoulder at the cargo draped across the back seat. “Is that the tarpaulin you’re gonna bury me in after you kill me?”
“That’s the tent,” came the reply. “It’s inside the tarp.”
“You’re gonna kill me in a tent?”
The mechanic couldn’t tell whether the kid was joking or serious. He pulled over at the side of the road and shut the engine off. “No, the tent’s to be used for its time-honoured designated purpose — for sleeping in.” He glanced across at his passenger, resting his wrist on the wheel. “Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, you know,” he said. “I’m looking forward to some fresh air, but I’m just as happy to go on my own. I can drop you back at your building if you’ve changed your mind. It’s no biggie.”
The emo studied his painted black fingernails before looking across at the mechanic. He brushed his hair away from his eyes again. “Where are we going?”
“A little spot I like that’s north of Brisbane and inland from Noosa. Kind of halfway between Noosa and Gympie. About two hours’ drive. There’s a beautiful river, you hear crickets chirping at night, but on a quiet night, you don’t hear much else. Plenty of fish in the stream. And when you look up on a clear night, you see nothing but the Milky Way.”
“Sounds nice.”
“I think you might like it.”
Yoshi smiled. “OK then.”
“No worries.” Mack turned the key, merged into traffic, and they headed north. “Should be a nice day, too. Forecast says blue skies and no wind, which means we should be able to see the stars after the sun sets.”
They were silent for most of the journey. Yoshi knew the mechanic wanted to relax and unwind, so he quietly let him enjoy the drive. He checked socials on his phone from time to time.
They arrived around two o’clock and parked. Yoshi stepped out and looked around. They were in the middle of a green, secluded valley, with a healthy river slithering between the grassy hills.
The mechanic unloaded the ute and set up their tent. The emo watched quietly, knowing that if he offered to help, the mechanic would’ve probably let him, but he knew he’d end up getting in the way. He had absolutely no idea how tents worked.
Yoshi checked his phone — he still had a signal.
“Get the esky?” asked the mechanic. “On the tray of the ute.”
The emo walked to the vehicle and came back with a chiller full of food and drink. There was a bottle of wine, seven or eight stubbies of beer, and a freshly made salad. “What’s the salad for?”
“To eat.”
“Duh,” replied the emo.
“It’s to go with the fish we’ll catch later,” came the reply. “I also brought half a loaf of bread and a supply of fresh water. It’s on the back of the ute, too. Can you get it?”
“The bread or the water?” Sounded like two halves of a high-security prison meal.
“The water,” clarified the mechanic.
The emo came back with a heavy five-litre container of water. He was glad to have been of some minor assistance in setting up their digs for the night.
Once the tent was up and two sleeping bags had been unfurled, the mechanic went back to the ute to retrieve a battery-powered lamp and a gas-fired cooker. They’d need these later.
The emo dropped his backpack inside the tent.
Mack retrieved his fishing tackle, and they walked the short distance to the river’s edge. They didn’t have the valley to themselves; maybe twenty or thirty other people were walking or bicycling around the river or fishing in it. A stranger waved at Mack, and the mechanic waved back.
“You know that guy?” asked the emo.
“Nup,” the mechanic replied. “Never seen him before in my life. Maybe he just recognises a fellow Queenslander who enjoys fishing.”
“He probably thinks you’re my dad,” Yoshi said. “To the rest of the world, this probably looks like ‘father and son’ time.”
Both of Mack’s kids were girls. He’d always wished and hoped for a son, but he never got one. “Yeah, maybe,” he agreed.
A fast flowing river was in front of them. The emo looked up and around; it truly was beautiful, and for the first time, he felt relaxed and unafraid. He looked at the implement the mechanic had carried down to the river. “You’ve got a big rod,” he said.
The mechanic grinned at the obvious double-entendre. “Never had any complaints.” He baited the hook, wound up and cast his line into the stream. The emo watched as Mack sipped a quiet beer, patiently waiting for a nibble. “You want a go?” he asked.
“Huh?” Yoshi had been lost in thought, absentmindedly staring at the mechanic’s bulging crotch.
“Come on, I’ll show you how to fish.” He gave the rod to the emo.
Yoshi held the implement, surprised at how motionless it was. “Is this it?” he asked. “Is this fishing? I mean, I’m just standing here…”
Suddenly, he felt a tug on the line. The mechanic put his beer down. “You’ve got one,” he said. “Looks feisty. Could be a trout.”
“Fuck, what do I do?”
The emo followed the mechanic’s instructions as best he could, but after a minute or two, the tension on the line slackened. Moby Dick had gotten away.
“Doesn’t matter, punk,” Mack said, taking the fishing rod back. “Happens sometimes.” He reeled the line in, re-hooked and re-baited it, and cast it back into the river. “Have another go. This river is plentiful, so we’re guaranteed to get another bite.”
The line tugged more quickly than either of them had anticipated. This time, the mechanic wasn’t gonna let the fish go. He stood closely behind the emo, guiding him, almost hugging him from behind as his hips pressed into the emo’s lower back. Four hands were on the rod now, but Mack was in control. Yoshi’s hands loosened as the mechanic’s prowess and experience pulled their catch from the stream.
Mack removed the hook from the fish’s lip before dropping it gently into a metal bucket. The trout flopped violently, like fish do when they’re out of water. Yoshi tried not to notice.
“Well done, punk,” congratulated the mechanic. “Good catch. One more ought to do us for the night.” He cast the line back out and handed the rod to Yoshi. He watched the emo’s tender fingers wrap around the thick foam grip of the rod, his glossy black nail polish glinting in the sun.
A few minutes later, the emo felt another tug. “Got one,” he declared.
Again, the mechanic guided the operation. He stood behind Yoshi, leaning into him as the emo slowly reeled in their prize. The emo felt Mack’s warm breath on the back of his neck.
A second trout bounced out of the water, and the emo watched as the resourceful mechanic repeated the same process, unhooking it and placing it into a bucket.
“So that’s fishing,” concluded the mechanic, hands on hips. “We’re all done. What did you think?”
“Umm… I’m not sure,” replied the pescatarian emo. “I’m in the uncomfortable halfway-house between eating meat and being a vegetarian. I eat seafood, maybe because it feels un-Japanese not to, but I don’t eat red meat, pork, or chicken. I’ve never caught a fish before, and while I guess I’m happy enough to eat them, it wasn’t much fun watching them die. Let’s just say that if you killed a chicken or a pig or a sheep for me to eat, things would be very different right now. I’d be eating salad sandwiches for dinner.”
“Well, just for today, think of me as your own personal fisherman.” The mechanic smiled as he collected his bucket, laden with their catch. They walked back to their tent.
Seemingly from nowhere, the mechanic produced a gigantic, Ramboesque knife. Yoshi’s eyes circled wide with fright. “Fuck, dude!” panicked the emo. The horror movie had finally come to life. He feared an untimely death, like Oswald in King Lear. “What the fuck have you got *that* for?”
The mechanic’s reply was innocent. “To descale and fillet the fish we just caught.” He held the bucket up — they’d stopped flopping around. “They’re both in fish heaven now, but I need to descale them, and remove their bones, before we cook ’em.”
Yoshi watched as the mechanic produced a few scraps of old broadsheet newspaper. Laying the fish on the newsprint, he chopped their heads off and threw them away. The emo winced. With the most violent part of the task done, Mack delicately removed the scaly skins before carving some thick fillets for them to eat.
“If you ever get bored of cars,” said the emo, “maybe you could be a sushi chef.”
“Nah,” Mack replied, laughing. “Don’t you need delicate precision for that? I’m just a brutal Aussie,” he said, “but I get the job done.” He cleaned the knife before putting it back where it came from. The sun was beginning to sink. “You hungry?”
“Yeah.” The emo’s tummy was rumbling, he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He looked around. Everyone else had left. They had the valley to themselves.
Mack unfolded two portable chairs and placed them on the grass outside the tent. He cooked the fish over the gas-fired cooker, and they ate from paper plates. The fish and the salad were both delicious.
Mack opened another beer. There were no glasses or cups, so the emo drank his cat’s piss straight from the bottle. “Thanks for dinner,” he burped.
The mechanic surveyed the scene. Night had fallen. “It’s not too bad out here, is it?”
“Yeah,” the emo admitted. The air was warm and still. Apart from the stars, the sky was nearly dark. The moon was full.
“Wait here for a sec,” said the mechanic, standing up. “Need a piss.”
Yoshi listened as the mechanic’s heavy footsteps crushed grass, stopping about fifteen metres away from their tent. He heard a zip being lowered, and the sibilant hiss of piss soaking the earth.
Fuck, that was hot.
“This is one of my favourite places,” Mack replied, having zipped up and returned. He was going to say it was one of his favourite places in the world, but he’d never been overseas, so how would he know? He picked up his beer and drank.
The emo remained silent. His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Amelia: you ok?
Yoshi: yeah we went fishing
“Let me take a wild guess,” ventured the mechanic, “that was your goth friend, right?”
“Yeah,” replied the emo. “She’s just checking in on me.”
“To see whether I’ve killed you, right?” He turned on the battery-powered lamp. There’d be enough power for a few hours, easily enough to see them through until it was time to retire for the night.
“No,” lied the emo, “because I’ve never been camping before, and she wanted to see how I was finding it so far. I told her we went fishing.”
Mack sipped his beer. “So how *are* you finding it?”
“Dinner was awesome, but I’ve never slept outside before, so I’ll reserve judgment until morning.” Yoshi paused for a second. “There’s a song called ‘The Outdoor Type’ which I swear is written about me. Have you ever heard it?”
The mechanic shook his head. The emo’s phone buzzed again, but he ignored it.
“The title of the song is ironic. It’s about a guy who’s not only fucking useless outside suburbia, but a guy who doesn’t even really want to know what lies outside suburbia. And that’s me.” He stopped for a second, pushing his hair away. “Wait, let me walk part of that back. I’ve never been curious about the mythical Australian outdoors that you see in museums and old Leyland Brothers documentaries, but tonight is different. I was surprised at how fast it got dark when the sun set, because I’m used to streetlights and neon signs. I’m glad you brought a lamp with us, but even though all I can see is you, our tent, our chairs and my bottle of wine, I know we’re in a valley, and there’s a river over there somewhere, and there are hills around us, but we have a place to sleep tonight, and I’ll see all those things again in the morning. And I know that if something goes wrong tonight, I’ll be well-protected.”
“Nothing’s gonna go wrong tonight,” replied the mechanic, “but you’re right, if it does, I’ll look after you.”
The emo moved his foldout chair slightly closer. “What if there was a lion?”
The mechanic drained the rest of his beer and opened the next. “There are no lions in Queensland, except for the Brisbane AFL team, plus zoos.”
“What about snakes?”
“Well,” the mechanic considered, “can’t rule that out, but they’re less active this time of year.”
“So what would happen if a venomous snake slithered into our tent and bit me on the penis?” asked the emo. “We’re a long way from immediate help. While we waited for the paramedics to arrive, you’d need to suck the poison out.”
The mechanic’s cock moved. “Yeah, I know. The chances of a snake sneaking into our tent and biting you on the dick are extraordinarily slim, but I promise you that if that happens, I’ll suck the poison out while we wait for the ambulance.”
“Would you spit or swallow?” asked Yoshi.
“For you,” Mack smiled, “I’d definitely swallow.”
“Fuck, daddy,” whispered the emo. He sipped his wine, glad that he packed his bottle of lube in his backpack. He knew he was gonna get it tonight. “By the way, I loved handling your rod today. It was nice and thick.”
The mechanic’s head was spinning with lust.
“I loved catching the second fish. I could feel you holding me from behind, guiding me, and I could feel your breath on my neck.” He paused for a moment. “And if I’m not mistaken, I think I felt your cock grinding into me.”
The mechanic couldn’t deny the charge.
“Everything’s been good so far,” concluded the emo, “except for one thing.”
Mack wanted to fish his dick out of his pants and start stroking. “What’s that?”
“Well,” said Yoshi, looking across at the mechanic in dim, battery-powered light, “I thought we were going to have a proper, traditional fire. Like in the movies. One made with wood. I thought you were gonna collect twigs and branches and, like, kinda arrange them somehow before lighting them. I thought the fire would cook our dinner and then keep us warm and safe for the rest of the night. So I was surprised to see you brought *that* with us,” he said, pointing at the propane-powered cooker, silently crouched in the darkness, having done its job.
“It’s more environmentally friendly,” the mechanic explained, “and besides, fires made from fuel can easily get out of control. Nobody wants a bushfire.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Yoshi sighed, “but I thought it was traditional to start campfires by rubbing two sticks together.” He stood up and moved across to the mechanic’s chair, rubbing his dick through his pants. “I’ve got my stick, big guy, have you got one too?” He opened the fly of his pants and pulled his erect cock out. “Maybe we can rub them together.”
The mechanic unzipped his pants, extracting his thick tube of manmeat. “Here’s mine,” he replied, stroking it hard.
The emo stood in front of the mechanic, still sitting in his foldout chair, and reached down to stroke his thick cock. “You wanna start a fire with me?” he whispered.
The mechanic looked up, eyes dripping with lust. He nodded.
“Then stand up.”
The mechanic stood, and the emo grabbed his fat shaft with both hands. Staring up at the burly blue-collar worker, he sighed, opening his mouth seductively, and the mechanic nearly nutted.
“Stop for a sec,” Mack breathed. “You nearly made me cum.”
The emo smiled deviously. “What?” he innocently protested. “But I haven’t done anything.”
The mechanic blinked. Fuck, either this kid didn’t know his own sexual power, or he pretended not to know. Either way, the situation was intoxicating. His cock pulsed, right on the edge. He looked down and noticed the battery-powered illumination was trained like a spotlight on the emo’s cock. He reached out to touch it. He wrapped his hand around it. He began stroking it.
“Fuck yeah, daddy,” moaned the emo, arching his back. “You like my stick?”
“I love your stick, punk.”
“I like yours too. Let’s rub them together. I’m getting cold. Let’s start a fire.”
The mechanic rubbed the tip of his groaning, almost painfully erect cock against the head of Yoshi’s penis. His finger and thumb collected the emo’s precum, and he used it to lubricate his own dick. Yoshi noticed. “Fuck, daddy, that was so nasty.”
If a genie popped out of a bottle and granted Mack one wish, it’d be for the emo to stop talking. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, it was harder and harder for the mechanic to hold it in. He closed his eyes and tried to think about his tax return.
He felt the emo’s fingers playfully teasing his dick as he eagerly returned the favour. And then he felt the emo’s grip change, and when he opened his eyes again and looked down, both of their cocks were in Yoshi’s hands, as he rubbed their shafts together.
The emo looked deep in the mechanic’s eyes, pouting. “Your stick is so much bigger than mine, daddy.”
The mechanic nearly lost his mind.
“By the way, thank you for teaching me fishing today,” Yoshi whispered. “I enjoyed our ‘father son’ time.”
Mack grabbed the emo’s face with both hands and buried his tongue in his mouth. Yoshi moaned as he felt Mack’s shaft buckling and twitching in his hands, shooting thick cannons of sperm onto his abdomen. The emo scooped the mechanic’s load off his tummy and used it as lube. He jacked himself to climax, firing volleys of hot semen all over the mechanic’s sexy junk.
Their kiss ended, and silence fell. There was no sound, other than their own breathing. A thin, milky veil of stars was smeared high above them, with the Southern Cross clearly visible in the night sky.
The mechanic’s knees nearly buckled underneath him, He flopped back down into his chair, completely spent.
The emo pulled his chair right next to the mechanic’s, as close as he possibly could. “That was so fucking hot, daddy.”
Breathlessly, Mack looked over at the hot piece of sex sitting next to him. “You don’t know what you do to me, punk.”
The emo looked down at his slimy, cum-soaked fingers before looking back up at the outdoorsman who’d caught and cooked his evening meal. “I think I do,” he admitted with a knowing smile. He licked his fingers clean. “I think I know. And just so you know, you make me feel the same way. You don’t know how crazy fucking horny you make me, big guy.”
They felt the expansive silence of the secluded valley.
“Like, today,” Yoshi continued, “this afternoon, when we were fishing, it was so hot feeling you standing behind me. All I wanted to do was sink to my knees and suck you off. I wouldn’t have cared who saw us. I wanted you to paint my face.” He sucked his cum-streaked fingers into his mouth again, making sure he got every last drop.
Mack had no response. His brain was fried.
It couldn’t have been any later than nine o’clock, but it was already time for bed. Mack unzipped the tent and the emo stripped naked from the waist down before climbing into his sleeping bag. The mechanic turned out the battery-powered lamp, and for a moment, apart from the sun’s reflection off the surface of the moon, the valley was pitch black. Yoshi fumbled for his phone and turned the torch on so Mack could see what he was doing as he climbed into his own bag. The white light was momentarily blinding. Once the mechanic was pantsless and safe inside his sleeping bag, the emo turned the torch off, and everything was dark again.
Inside the tent, neither of them could see each other. They couldn’t even see their own hands in front of their faces. But they could feel each other’s presence, and they could hear each other breathe.
In complete darkness, Yoshi tried to make conversation. “Thanks for bringing me out here. I think I can see what you like about this place. If you wanted fresh air and open spaces, where else would you go?”
“Yeah,” came the reply. “My parents used to bring me here when I was a teenager. We used to go for walks, we’d bring our bikes and go for long rides. I’ve always loved being outside.”
“The only problem,” said the emo, rolling onto his side, “is there’s no wifi.”
“That’s half the point. We’re totally disconnected.”
The emo knew they weren’t, his phone was still receiving signal, but he appreciated the point Mack was making. There was enough contact with the world to communicate if something went wrong and emergency help was needed, but not enough to stream high-definition trash TV. “Yeah, I know. It feels weird to be disconnected.”
“You don’t like it?” whispered the mechanic.
“I don’t know,” came the reply. “I guess I’m just not used to it. I didn’t grow up with morse code and smoke signals. Fuck, I don’t even remember the days of dial-up. I was too young. My parents told me dial-up sucked.”
“Sometimes, it’s good to get outside your comfort zone.”
“Like when I came to the rugby game with you and your dimwit mates?”
The mechanic was a little surprised by that. “Well, yeah, maybe, but that wasn’t what I meant.”
The emo moved his rook to a position that threatened the mechanic’s king. “Are you outside your comfort zone right now?”
Mack considered where he was. He was in a tent, under the stars on a perfect evening, lying on a patch of land he’d grown up with. “Don’t think so. Right now, on a clear, cool night like this, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“That’s not what I meant,” pressed the emo. “Are you outside your comfort zone by being here with me?”
The bishop moved along the diagonal, creeping closer to the king.
The mechanic gulped.
“You know what we’ve just done,” Yoshi continued, “and I know you’re already imagining what we’re about to do. I’m under no illusions, big guy. You’re gonna fuck my brains out before the sun comes up tomorrow.” He paused for a second before asking his question again. “Are you outside your comfort zone?”
“No,” breathed the mechanic.
The emo’s queen moved across the board, pressing the advantage. “Then can I climb in there with you?”
“Yeah. That’d be good.”
The emo found his phone and switched on the torch. Both sets of eyes squinted painfully as they adjusted from total darkness to piercing light. “Fuck, hurry up,” panicked the mechanic as Yoshi’s legs, then abdomen, forced their way into Mack’s bag.
The emo turned his phone light off.
“Fuck, punk,” said the mechanic, trying to adjust to darkness again, “that was bright. All I can see is warm-coloured streaks across my retinas.”
“Same,” replied the emo. “I’m trying to pretend they’re fireworks. You feel warm,” he ventured, squirming to get comfortable, “but it’s a bit squishy in here.”
“Yeah,” protested the mechanic, “that’s because sleeping bags are made for one person to sleep in, not two. You’re a skinny cunt, but even so, it’s a tight squeeze.”
The emo wrapped an arm across Mack’s tummy. He didn’t reach down to check, but he suspected the mechanic was getting hard again.
Yoshi didn’t know what the exact time was, but for a night owl, it felt early. His nocturnal stock-filling and the mechanic’s recent six day weeks caught up with them both. Inside the tent, underneath the stars, the mechanic began to snore. Yoshi gave him a shove and he rolled onto his side. Despite their tight confines, they both enjoyed a few hours of blissful sleep.
Yoshi’s bladder woke him up at 3am. He knew this was the time because he checked his phone. His shocked eyes squinted again as his screen blared piercing light. He still had signal.
He remembered where he was — in a tent, in the middle of nowhere, sharing a sleeping bag with an ex-rugby player twice his age.
He needed to pee, but he couldn’t do it here. He had to get up, but he knew he’d wake the mechanic. It was unavoidable. He turned the torch light on again.
He squeezed and squirmed his way out of the sleeping bag, but Mack was awake well before he unzipped the tent. The light emanating from the emo’s phone was blistering.
The mechanic listened as Yoshi lightly watered the grass. He became conscious of the pressure in his bladder and realised he needed to take a piss too. When the emo came back to the tent, Mack was out of the sleeping bag, standing up, preparing to leave the tent.
“You OK?” Yoshi asked.
“Well, since you woke me up,” Mack squinted, “I thought I might as well take a leak too.”
The emo watched Mack leave the tent and walk a few metres downhill. The mechanic flopped it out and let loose, a torrent of beery piss cascading down the hill towards the river.
“Fuck,” Yoshi moaned.
The mechanic flicked the last stray drops away and padded his way back to the tent. The emo began settling back down into the sleeping bag for the rest of the night. He was halfway through the process when Mack returned, zipping the tent up again from the inside.
Yoshi felt the mechanic’s warm frame squeeze into the sleeping bag, joining him. He turned his phone light off, and they were once again shrouded in complete darkness.
“That was so fucking hot, big guy.”
The mechanic was befuddled. “What was?”
“Watching you piss,” said the emo. He reached down, cupping a palm over the mechanic’s warm groin. “I left my phone light on to help you find your way back to the tent, but really, I just wanted to watch you piss.”
Mack had no idea what to say in response.
“You got me hard,” Yoshi continued. He reached up and scraped his hands across Mack’s chest, finding his nipples, giving them a cheeky pinch. “Daddy got my wang hard again,” he whispered, rolling over to press his stiff, smallish cock into the mechanic’s tummy. “Feel?”
Mack’s head began spinning.
Yoshi put his mouth against the mechanic’s ear. “Have I been a good boy today, daddy?” he whispered. He reached down, grabbed Mack’s hand, and guided it to his dick. “I was good at fishing, wasn’t I? I’m good at fucking, too. And you like my small wang, don’t you, daddy?”
“Yeah,” Mack replied, gripping the emo’s shaft and running his thumb across the head. His own cock was on fire.
The emo gasped, feeling the mechanic’s thick fingers wrap around his shaft. “You’re so naughty, daddy. You’re *so* going to hell.”
All they could hear was breathing. All they could smell was sex.
“Please fuck me, daddy,” whispered the emo, reaching down to grip Mack’s fat log. “Oh my god,” he seethed, “you’re so hard.”
The mechanic kissed Yoshi’s skinny, hairless chest, sucking his pierced nipple into his mouth. “Fuck yeah,” the emo whispered, cupping his hands behind Mack’s head, holding him close. “Suck on my sweet boytits.”
Mack kissed, licked and bit the emo’s nipples, driving Yoshi into ecstasy. “Can I fuck you?” asked the mechanic.
As if the emo was ever gonna say no. “I brought a bottle of lube,” he said. “It’s in my backpack. Wait, I’ll get it.” He flicked the torch light on again, and Mack squinted. “Fuck, sorry. What a mood-breaker.”
The mechanic got a sweet glimpse of the emo’s erection while he was rummaging through his backpack.
“Watch this,” Yoshi teased. He squirted a dollop of lube into his hand, spread his cheeks, and smeared it across his crack. Two wet fingers penetrated his hole, and his jaw slackened in pleasure.
The mechanic watched through squinting eyes, mesmerised, thinking he’d died and gone to gay porn heaven.
The emo squeezed the bottle again, producing a small pool of lube held in his palm. “This is for you, big guy,” he said. He poured the viscous liquid into Mack’s hands.
The mechanic stroked the lube onto his cock as the emo turned his torch off. In the darkness, Yoshi lay on his back on top of the sleeping bag, spreading his legs wide. “Fuck me nice and slow, daddy. Fuck me until the sun comes up.”
“You really need to stop talking,” said Mack.
“Why?” pouted the emo.
“Because everything you say makes me wanna cum.”
“I had no idea,” confessed the emo. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good boy.”
Mack couldn’t tell whether his disclosure was going to make things better or worse.
“I’m ready for you,” whispered the emo. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll just lie here on my back. I won’t move, and I won’t say anything.” He paused for a second. “You can treat me like a sex doll.”
Mack nearly started to spurt. His mind flew back to his tax return. He thought about the various options available when depreciating an asset. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew the emo was waiting for him. He approached the sexual warmth, kneeling forward. His hands found Yoshi’s smooth thighs, and silently, wordlessly, the engorged head of his enormous cock pressed against the emo’s gaping hole.
He penetrated the half-Japanese kid’s hungry pussy.
The Milky Way exploded above them as the mechanic pressed inch after tender, sensitive inch into the emo’s beautiful cunt.
“Is this OK?” asked Mack.
The emo moaned. “Fuck, you’re so big.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for what you’ve got, daddy,” said the emo. “I’m not complaining.”
The mechanic thrust his hips forward.
“Ooh,” moaned the emo. “Fuck yeah.” He closed his eyes, but because everything was completely dark, it made no difference. “Go slow,” he said. “Make it last. Fuck me until the sun comes up.”
“I won’t be able to last that long,” Mack admitted, moving slowly. “Your pussy is so tight, and so warm.”
“And your cock is perfect,” Yoshi replied. “I love feeling you inside me, daddy. Wreck my pussy, but wreck it slow.”
Something about the emo’s words pressed the mechanic’s nuclear button. The chain reaction began, and Mack’s balls began to boil. “Gonna knock you up, punk,” he said, seconds before his nuts poured a lake of sperm into the emo’s juicy hole.
“Fuck, daddy,” said the emo, “I can feel you. You’re so warm,” he said, as the mechanic flooded his bowel with thick seed.
Mack began to withdraw. “No, daddy. Stay inside me,” pleaded the emo, “stay inside me for as long as you can. You feel so good.”
Eventually, the mechanic’s fat shaft plopped out. Exquisite pleasure turns into awkward pain so quickly. Yoshi rolled over, wrapping both arms around Mack’s torso. “Next time, I won’t say anything at all.”
They found each other’s faces through the darkness, and they kissed, tongues mashing into each other.
“What’s the time, punk?”
The emo checked his phone, blazing the tent in artificial light for the last time tonight. “Four o’clock.”
“Fuck,” said the mechanic, “the sun will be up in a couple of hours. Let’s get some more shuteye.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
They crawled back into Mack’s sleeping bag. It was a tight fit.
Yoshi wrapped his skinny arms around the mechanic’s strong shoulders, and they slept through the calls of the early morning birdlife, not stirring again until the sun woke them up.